Reunion
by Zephyr Seraphim
Summary: A series of events leads Hermione to an unusual relationship. A revamp of my earlier Reunion story with a slight bit of angst, but not much. Post Half Blood Prince.
1. The Moment I Saw You Cry

Part 1:  
The Moment I Saw You Cry

Love stinks. Who'd have thought that those two words would end up so true? I'm only twenty-six, I'm a little young to be cynical...well, that's what everyone tells me. He was only **one** man, just because he broke my heart that doesn't mean there aren't "other fish in the sea." God, I hate clichés. That's what everyone tells me, though.

There are other fish in the sea, yes. Most of them you just want to throw back...but there isn't another fish in any sea like the fish I thought I'd caught. He was beautiful: grey eyes, full lips, white-blond hair, the body of Apollo...and he was also the biggest prat I'd ever met in my life. I still fell for him anyway. Needless to say, falling for one's arch nemesis is a way to end up as a charter member of Broken Hearts Anonymous...and it's a very stupid thing to do. Stupidity was another one of my enemies.

I was one of the smartest witches to ever graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in its history. I made **eleven** O.W.L.s. (ten O's and an E), passed all of my N.E.W.T.s with O's; and in the mean time, I managed to help my friends in their attempts to save the world from the world's greatest dark wizard, Lord Voldemort.

Slughorn's Christmas party was when it all happened, when everything changed. Harry, Ron, and I had had him tagged as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters since we'd first met him, but then something strange had happened with him. At Slughorn's Christmas party, I saw him up close for the first time in a long while. He looked sick, really sick; his pale skin had become translucent with a greyish tinge to it. He looked like someone who had a lot on his mind.

I saw Harry follow Draco and Snape and followed myself. In the year since I'd become a prefect I'd become quite adept at sneaking about unnoticed; it was the best way to find rule-breakers, after all. I heard snippets of the conversation, the door was too far away and Snape and Draco mostly spoke in undertones. Then the door burst open and Draco headed off and disappeared around down the corner. Snape headed back to the party. I saw Harry doff the Invisibility Cloak and head back to Slughorn's party. I was curious, my interest piqued, so I did the stupid thing and I headed after Draco.

It didn't take me long to find him. He sat on the stairs of one of the towers, his head cradled in his hands, and his shoulders shaking. He was crying. The Untouchable Draco Malfoy was crying. Needless to say, I felt really bad about tailing him. I felt even worse about the indecision that came upon me. Should I comfort him? I know it sounds silly considering the fact that Draco Malfoy had tried his hardest to make my life miserable since we'd first met, but I was one of those people who just couldn't let things lie. I had to do something, even if it backfired horribly. Which it rather did but not in the way you may think.

I sat beside him on the cold, stone step and just let him cry. I'm not certain when he actually noticed I was there. He just suddenly stiffened and sat up, wiping his face on his robes. "Go ahead, Mudblood, go run to Potty and the Weasel and tell them that Draco was crying," he growled, standing up with a swish of his robes. It always impressed me how pure-bloods always seemed to do that with their robes. Like the robes were a part of them, and I suppose they were in a way.

I stood up, dusting off my dress. "I'm not going to tell anyone," I said. "Why would I?" He didn't answer but headed off toward the Slytherin dungeons. And that was where it all started. When the proverbial curtains were drawn and I realised that Draco Malfoy was just a boy. He had feelings, too. Of course, on some level I always knew that but **this** was the big revelation. Draco was human, and Draco was hurting. And I'm the first to admit that Harry wasn't the only person with a "saving people" complex. I just couldn't leave things be. That would have been the smart thing. But again, I'm not always as smart as I think I am. I made it my mission to save Draco.

* * *

It started small. Draco was left at Hogwarts, and I changed my holiday plans at the last minute. I told Ron and Harry that I was going home for the holidays while instead I stayed at Hogwarts. I'm not really sure why I just didn't tell them; maybe it just hadn't occurred to me. I rather liked staying at Hogwarts over the holidays; it was quiet.

Draco didn't seem happy to see me but that wasn't unusual; the two of us lived in perpetual dislike. As the days ebbed on and no tales of Draco Malfoy's cry had surfaced, something changed. He didn't look at me with that constant look of disgust and hatred that he had before. We started talking, Draco and I, started having civil conversations. It only went downhill from there.

I found myself having fun with Draco. Get your minds out of the gutter, people. Our relationship wasn't about sex, far from it; Draco was my intellectual equal (as disgusted as I am to say that), and we discussed everything from Arithmancy, to Ancient Ruins, to History of Magic. You don't know how refreshing it was to find someone that had **actually** paid attention during Professor Binns's boring and long-winded lectures.

Our conversations started with schoolwork and then just general conversation from the politics to Quidditch and everything in between. We never much talked about ourselves, and we were both perfectly fine with that. There was a borderline that we didn't cross. There was something really wrong with him, but he refused to talk about, and I didn't press. It worked for us.

"You can't be serious!" Draco cried.

"Of course I'm serious!" I proclaimed. "House-elves deserve equal rights! They work hard and are enslaved because of it!"

"Shhh!" Madam Pince ordered.

"They're not enslaved!" Draco stated. "They **chose** a life of servitude. They're happy with it. They enjoy taking care of wizards; it makes them feel useful!"

"How can anyone be happy enslaved!"

"That's quite enough!" Madam Pince said, rounding on us. "Get out of my library!"

I blushed and pulled at the collar of my t-shirt. "We're sorry," I stated sheepishly.

"We'll be good," Draco added, opening his eyes wide and giving the librarian liquid, puppy-dog eyes. Madam Pince floundered for a moment but shook her head.

I looked at Draco in amazement; I'd **never** seen Madam Pince **ever** debate a decision she'd made. "That isn't going to work this time, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest the two of you find another place to chat."

We left the library. "'This time'? You made her fall for that look before?" I asked.

He smirked. "She's only human, can't blame her."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so full of yourself." I looked around the hallway, gnawing my bottom lip. "So I guess I won't be talking to you again for a while."

"I didn't say that," he said. "I have a place we can go." He led me through the halls and toward the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"The Room of Requirement," I stated.

He nodded. "Do you want to choose or should I?"

I cocked my head and looked at the tapestry. "I'll choose." I concentrated on the most comfortable setting I could think of: my paternal grandparents' study. I entered the Room of Requirement and smiled at the new surroundings. The walls were lined with bookcases with old, leather-bound books; a comfortable, squashy dark-red velvet-upholstered, claw-foot settee stood before the massive fireplace, the flames dancing and filling the room with warmth; there was a globe in one of the room's corners; and well-worn Persian rugs were placed here and there over the wooden floor. Draco looked around, impressed. "Comfortable."

* * *

It was surprising how fast it happened, one day Draco and I were enemies, the next acquaintances, then friends, and then the logical next step: Draco and I started dating. It all started with a kiss. On New Year's Eve, we were in the Room of Requirement and I was telling him about Muggle traditions. Most notably, the first kiss of the New Year. He smiled faintly as the grandfather clock in our version of the Room of Requirement rang for midnight and then he kissed me. I was shocked at first but I found myself moving into kiss.

A few days later, Ron and Harry returned from their trip to the Burrow and I expected things to return to the way they had been. Draco and I were going to be enemies again and the realisation really hurt. That was when I also realised that my tentative friendship with Draco had become a lot more to me. I'd fallen in love.

Now you see my dilemma? Draco's family hated me -- hated **everyone** like me. His father was a follower of Voldemort who wanted to kill Harry and probably Ron and me as well. But to my surprise, my relationship with Draco **didn't** end. It just changed to accompany our individual lives. We were never together in public; we never even talked to each other with civility in public.

But when we were sure no one was watching, we'd touch hands, brush against one another. Nothing that anyone who chanced upon us could consider really romantic, simply incidental. In the Room of Requirement, we were entirely different. We started talking about our lives, our families, ourselves, although we both kept secrets. I just didn't realise how important Draco's secret was. I didn't get much time to reflect on this when we were together because talking often gave way to kisses, caresses, and explorations. Of course, we never got much time in the Room of Requirement, only when our prefect duties allowed us to escape for a few hours. So we made every moment count.

In March, Draco and I lost our virginities to one another. I was surprised to actually find out that his relationship with Pansy had never gone that far or maybe he had lied to me. It didn't really matter because every moment with Draco Malfoy was better than heaven, even when we didn't make love, everything was intimate. I loved to snuggle into his warmth and wished just once that we could truly spend the night together.

But after that, he grew distant. I thought it was the classic "I slept with my boyfriend and now he doesn't love me anymore" syndrome you hear about all the time, but it wasn't that. He wasn't physically distant, but emotionally. I don't really know how to explain it. He held me closer as if he was memorising something. Every day now, I wish I had asked him, wished I would have asked about the two girls who guarded the Room of Requirement when we weren't using it, wished I would have had the guts to just ask "What's wrong" and demand the proper answer. If I had, maybe things would be different. Maybe I would have had my happily ever after. It's nice to think about that. But it's even worse to think of what else could have happened if I had asked the question. It's those "what if's" that always make things worse. What if I had done this? What if I had said that? I'll never know, will I?

Everything came to light in June of 1997. The night before the last night I saw him, our love-making was ardent and frenzied as if this would be our last night together. It was. I remember it as if it only happened a couple hours ago. He held me so tightly against him as if he wanted to melt into me. "Please stay with me tonight?" he whispered, stroking my hair lovingly. "Please." I couldn't say no, so I fell asleep wrapped in his arms, his body moulding mine.

When I woke up on the morning, Draco was completely different. There was a set to him that I knew very well. The Prince of Slytherin was back. The clouds that I had been living in with Draco parted, and I came crashing down to earth in a severely bum-bruising experience. The man I had grown to love was gone, replaced by the rat-faced boy I had abhorred for the six and a half years before. "Get out," he said. "Run away, Hermione. Run and never come back."

"Draco, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I never want to see you again. Ever," he said, his eyes roiling with hatred. "Stay away from me, get away from Hogwarts, or you will die." I stared at him in shock as he left. Of course, I didn't believe him, but he wasn't kidding. If it hadn't been for _Felix Felicis_, I wouldn't be here today. And many people **weren't** here today because of that night.

It's strange how you never notice things until something terrible happens. How I never really thought that Draco's secret really mattered, it wasn't even that important. How the man I loved had every intention of killing the Headmaster; he possibly thought of it during our conversations or our love-making. Draco had failed in his endeavour and led Snape to kill Professor Dumbledore instead. So many people had died and I felt like it was entirely my fault. I was the closest person to Draco, I **should** have known. I should have warned everyone.

Things got even worse for me when I realised that I hadn't had a period in a few months. On July ninth, I found out that I was pregnant. Yes, I carried the child of my childhood enemy, the person who had caused the deaths of several people, and destroyed the safety and sanctity of Hogwarts. How could I possibly tell my friends? My parents?

I was seventeen and I was going to be a mother. Actually, I was almost eighteen, but I had never expected to be pregnant before I was married, pregnant even before I was thirty. And I wasn't just the mother of anyone, but the mother of the child of Draco Malfoy. My baby's grandfather was a Death Eater and my baby's great-aunt had tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. I double-checked the pregnancy test with a spell to make sure. The results were more concise but the same: not only was I pregnant with Draco's baby, but she was a girl, and she would be born in late December, and I had actually gotten pregnant the first time I'd had sex with Draco.

I was ecstatic and depressed at the same time. I loved Draco, I knew that. On some level, I **still** loved him no matter how horrible things had turned out. Slowly, realisations came to me, Draco **hadn't** really wanted to unleash unholy hell on Hogwarts but he had had no choice, bits of the conversation that I had overheard between Draco and Snape started to make sense now. Voldemort was holding the lives of Draco's parents over him. He had pretended to be so big and strong but he was really just a scared little boy.

After the spell, I had no choice. I told my parents first, and the look of surprise and shock on their faces almost brought me to tears, but they accepted that they were going to be grandparents a lot earlier than planned. I felt better after telling my parents, even if they kept asking who the father was. I simply told them that they didn't know him. I told Ron and Harry that I was pregnant after Bill and Fleur's wedding.

The next weeks were spent with Ron and Harry trying to get the identity of my baby's father so they could either kill him or have him marry me -- kill him on Ron's part and marriage on Harry's. It was like third year all over again but much, much worse. Ron wouldn't even talk to me except for screaming fits and if he didn't talk to me, he gave me the silent treatment and sent me cold glares.

Ginny wondered why my friendship had changed with Ron and Harry. Then in a moment of spite, Ron told her that I had been "knocked up by some guy." Ginny was furious. She had always had this picture of Ron and I living happily ever after in a beautiful house with a lovely garden, a white picket fence, and (at least) two children that looked just like us. Of course, this house would be right next door to her dream house with Harry and their perfect little family.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Weasley family to find out about my baby. Mrs. Weasley disapproved of my pre-marital relations but offered to help in any way she could. The same went for Mr. Weasley. Bill, Charlie, and Percy didn't really care. The twins initially thought the baby was Ron's and gave him a round of congrats until he told them that he had no idea of my baby's paternity. The twins made it a game, list off all the boys that I'd ever been in contact with (excluding Slytherins, of course): Viktor, Cormac, Seamus, Neville; they even teased me with the possibility that my baby could be from a liaison with a teacher to get a better grade. They made me laugh and feel a lot better with their outlandish guesses.

To my astonishment, Fleur and I actually became friendly during my banishment. The next five months got better. Ron started an interesting relationship with Luna Lovegood and became a much better person for it. Ginny accepted her brother moving on and we became friends again. Harry felt much better as soon as Ron and I became friendly again.

On December 21, 1997, I gave birth in a Muggle hospital to a happy, healthy baby girl whom I named Athena Elise Granger. I completely adored her from the instant the doctor showed her to me after seventeen hours of labour. Her skin was pale as milk, her hair a golden-brown curly mess, her face had sharp angles smoothed by my own genetics playing in, and her eyes -- she had her father's eyes -- a steely grey shade like the clouds during a storm.

I was nearly brought to tears when I stared into the eyes of the only man I'd ever really loved and realised that I had no idea where her father was or if I'd ever see him again. I stroked her silky cheek, her impossibly small fingers tangling around my forefinger. The nurse brought my parents, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Bill, Fleur, the twins, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to see the baby at this time. Harry stared at my daughter with amazement. "She's beautiful," he murmured.

"She's so tiny..." Mrs. Weasley gushed. "Oh, I still remember the day Ginny was born..."

"Mum!" Ginny interrupted. "What's her name?"

"Athena Elise Granger," I stated. I was still shocked that Draco and I had brought this tiny, perfect being into the world.

"So you're still not gonna tell us?" Ron asked, noting the baby had my last name and not her father's.

"My money's on Neville," Fred quipped.

"It's always the quiet ones," George stated.

"Be serious the both of you," Mr. Weasley reprimanded.

"Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war," Luna spoke up. Everyone stared at her in amazement as she said the first sensical thing that I could ever remember her saying.

My mother sat on the bed beside me, staring at her granddaughter. "She looks just like you did," she said with a smile, toying with of my baby's curls. "It's amazing how such a tiny, helpless, fragile thing can grow up to be so strong." Life was good. For a while.

* * *

On New Year's Eve, an owl arrived at Godric's Hollow where Ron, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and I had been staying (Athena was with my parents, everyone thought it safer for her to be in the Muggle world). The letter had been written by Dumbledore the day he died and was addressed to Harry. It explained that Dumbledore's death had been arranged by him and Snape. Harry was understandably upset by this...especially because the letter had told him that Dumbledore's death had been to save Draco and his parents (which had failed because Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had been killed in November). The letter also asked Harry to let Draco join us in our mission to destroy Voldemort to help him find a reason for living. Ron, Ginny, and I were vehemently against it (for our different reasons), Neville and Luna were indifferent, but Harry decided that Draco should join us.

I was a nervous wreck, but no one seemed to notice. I told myself that I could do this. I could deal with Draco's reappearance in my life. I actually thought I could. I was wrong. I was **so** wrong. Draco came back into my life three days after the letter's arrival. He looked horrible. His usually baby-smooth face was covered with a good week's worth of golden stubble, his usually immaculately-manicured nails had been gnawed to the quick, his robes were dirty and tattered, he looked gaunt, his pale hair was wilder than Harry's on a bad day, but his eyes made me feel the worst. The beautiful grey eyes that lightened to a pale grey when he was feeling mischievous, sparked with a sarcastic humour, and darkened to nearly black when we made love; they seemed older, haunted; they were bloodshot and had bruise-like dark circles under his eyes.

The very illogical need to save Draco rose again, this time only strengthened by the maternal instinct I'd started to feel when I was pregnant. "Draco," I said. He didn't even look at me. I didn't feel bad; his eyes hadn't fixed on anything since he'd arrived. I walked over, putting my hand on his cheek. Draco's eyes finally fixed on me. "Have you eaten?"

"Hermione...are you a dream?" he asked; his hand caressing mine and sending an anything-but-unpleasant shiver through my body.

"No. I'm very real," I stated. "Draco, have you eaten?"

He chuckled: a hollow, creepy kind of laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. "I don't remember."

Ron stared at Draco in shock, Harry stared at him with pity, Neville simply blushed and couldn't look at him, and Luna examined him with the distant curiosity that was her trademark. Ginny had made herself busy in the kitchen, cooking something up for Draco. "Er...let's go to the breakfast room, then," I suggested. Draco didn't speak, but when I tried to free my hand from his grasp, he stiffened and gripped my hand tightly. I winced and manoeuvred so our fingers twined together.

I led Draco into the breakfast room and guided him to a seat. He finally let go of my hand, but always kept so we touched. If I would move where he couldn't feel me, he almost had a panic attack. I was so very lucky. My friends were -- I don't want to say stupid -- but they were rather unobservant. Once Ginny had the food on the table, I had to keep reminding Draco to eat because he'd simply stare off in space if I didn't do so. They simply thought that Draco's sudden need to be near me was due to the calming influence a mother exuded. Thankfully, they never put the pieces together, never realised that Draco had made me a mother.

After breakfast, Draco seemed to be more himself, but he still wasn't the same. He seemed to have aged a decade in the past six months. He hardly spoke and when he did, he gave simple, monosyllabic responses. Eventually, he tired of the constant questioning that Harry gave him and the piteous glances he received from Ginny. "I'm going to go bathe," he said.

"First floor, second door to the left," Harry said. Draco headed up the stairs to the bathroom, and I grabbed some clothes that the twins had left when they had stayed the night a while ago. They were about Draco's size so I took them upstairs. I knocked on the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" Draco asked.

"Hermione," I replied.

"Come in." I went in, closing my eyes so I wouldn't see what I'd already seen several times before. Draco was amused. "It's not like you haven't seen it all before." I wasn't amused, but I opened my eyes. The bathtub, like the prefects' tub at Hogwarts, was the size of a small swimming pool and, for what the sake of what was left of my modesty, the water was covered with thick, pine-scented, green-blue bubbles.

"I, uh, I brought you some clothes," I stammered, depositing the clothes I'd rounded up on the sink.

Draco examined me thoughtfully. "You seem...different..." he said.

I let my eyes meet his. "How do you mean?" I asked, swallowing hard. Did he know? Oh, God, I hoped not. I wasn't ready for this. I wondered if I'd **ever** be ready for this.

He frowned and examined me. "I'm not sure...there's just something about you..." he started.

"It's just your imagination," I replied.

And so it went for the next six months...every day Draco would get a little bit better, but he wasn't the same. He made an attempt at his former snarkiness, but it just seemed for show. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix would come daily and help us with our defensive and offensive spells for hours upon hours. By the end of the day, we'd fall to bed, thoroughly exhausted. We practised and practised daily and, as June began, we knew it would soon be time for the final face-off. Voldemort had been holding off, probably doing the same thing with his Death Eaters that we'd been doing with the Order of the Phoenix.

At the end of June, I did another stupid thing. I'd been awake for almost fifty hours, revolving from pacing to crying to practising my spells when Draco practically forced me to go to bed and recuperate. I was utterly terrified, not for myself, but for my daughter. I hadn't seen her in six months. I hadn't been a part of my only child's life since a week after she'd been born, and I wondered if I'd even survive to see her again. In preparation for the final battle, I'd made several videos for her on different subjects just in case I didn't make it, but it all seemed to be crashing down on me.

Draco took me to his room and made me lie down. "Shhh...Hermione," he whispered. "Everything will be okay." I wanted to believe him, I really did, but I couldn't. He stroked my hair, my face, whispering soothing words, but I was still a wreck. So he did the only thing he could think of: he kissed me. And I kissed him back, desperately. We made love much like the night before Dumbledore had been killed a year beforehand; desperate, needing to lose ourselves in one-another.

I fell asleep in his arms and I awoke still in his arms before dawn had risen. I extricated myself from him, dressed in the clothes I had shed the night before, and exited the room to find myself face-to-face with Luna. "She has his eyes," she stated simply.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Athena. She has his eyes," she replied. My eyes widened as I felt the sudden panic rise. "Don't worry; it's not my secret to tell. My father sent me a phone. He really likes Muggle things. I thought you might want to call home and talk to your family. Just in case."

I swallowed. "Just in case," I agreed. She led me into the room that we shared with Ginny and retrieved a cellular phone from the bedside table. "May I?" She nodded and I left the room with the phone and headed into the den. Trembling, I quickly dialled my parents' phone number. I sat on the sofa and waited.

My mother answered, her voice groggy with sleep. "Hello, Mum," I said, proud that I managed to keep the tremble from my voice. "How are you?" We talked for an hour before she put on my dad. Another hour and I asked to speak to Athena. "Hello, sweetheart, I love you very much." I didn't notice Draco standing in the doorway or the look of sadness that flitted across his face.

That was the last day of the rest of my life. It was the day that Voldemort finally came a-calling. The battle was hard and bloody. Several members of the Order of the Phoenix died that day as did Neville to Rodolphus Lestrange after Neville killed Rodolphus's wife and brother. Draco killed Rodolphus in return. Harry and Voldemort faced off, and Harry was the victor. He was almost killed in the process, barely clinging onto life as Voldemort took his last breath.

Draco left without saying goodbye, and I didn't see him again for almost a decade. On September 1, 2005, Professor McGonagall sent out an owl to the surviving members of the Hogwarts Class of 1998 (the Heroes of Hogwarts as many of us were called), to come back to Hogwarts to help teach the newer students of the very real threat of dark wizards for fear that maybe in the past years, they had forgotten the attack on Hogwarts, the murder of Professor Dumbledore, and Harry Potter's final defeat of Voldemort.

Since the year Professor Dumbledore had died, there had been a yearly memorial service to remember the former Headmaster, his cause, and the life he had dedicated to Hogwarts. Many of the teachers had retired after the Final Battle, too thrown by the Death Eater invasion to continue working at the defiled school, and there were many new people who hadn't been at Hogwarts to experience it for themselves. So, Professor McGonagall decided to bring in survivors to teach a new required History class. Harry, Luna, Ron, Ginny, and I decided to help as much as we could. We didn't realise that Draco had also been one of the students assigned to help with the new class until the day we got there. And that's when everything got a bit strange.


	2. They All Fall Down

Part 2:  
They All Fall Down

It's startling how fast your life can change. One moment, your life is headed in one direction and then it does a complete turnaround. After the Second Great War, the entire world -- Muggle and Wizarding -- completely changed. The death and destruction left by Voldemort was too great to contain, and no amount of memory charms could change everyone's recollection. This left wizards and witches in a rather precarious position and magic was finally revealed to the Muggle world in what would be called the Great Revelation by many wizards and witches or "coming out of the cauldron" as many Muggles put it. Many Muggles simply accepted it and went on with their lives, others tried to pretend that nothing had changed, and still more others tried to bring back the Inquisition. To counter the Great Revelation, the Ministry of Magic created the Department of Muggle Relations which became managed by Arthur Weasley.

Other than the Great Revelation, the War brought on many other changes. There was a rather sudden and sharp increase in marriages and the Wizarding World's birth rate. Harry and Ginny eloped the day after Voldemort was finally defeated in the Battle of Godric's Hollow and, three months after the War ended, Percy Weasley married Penelope Clearwater. About a year after Fleur and Bill were married, they had their firstborn, a son they named Gabriel Fabian Weasley (after Gabrielle Delacour and Fabian Prewett, Bill's uncle). The birth of her nephew sent Ginny's biological clock a-ticking and a year after her graduation, she gave birth to a healthy, happy baby boy named James Sirius Potter.

While their siblings were setting up house, the twins, Charlie, and Ron were perfectly contented in their unmarried lives. Charlie, who had been well-known for his Quidditch prowess, was quite the playboy. The twins, who had made a fortune with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, were quickly becoming two of the Wizarding World's most eligible bachelors. Ron, though unmarried, was extremely happy just co-habitating with Luna (a fact that dismayed Mrs. Weasley thoroughly, and she was constantly dropping rather large hints about the two marrying).

Mr. Weasley made a great deal of money as the Head of Muggle Relations and, lost without taking care of her children, Mrs. Weasley went on to star in the Wizarding World's first cooking television show. Ron had overcome his fear of people watching him play Quidditch and had gone on to join the Chudley Cannons, winning them their first championship since 1892 and causing the team to change their motto back to "We shall conquer." Luna had taken the reigns of the _Quibbler_ after her father had decided to retire and chase after some of the creatures the magazine advertised. Harry had become an Auror and then gone on to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Ginny had also become an Auror.

I was happy and fulfilled with my singleness. I'd briefly tried dating again but none of them could ever compare to Draco and many of them ran off when they found out I had a daughter. I'd abandoned the idea of becoming an Auror and decided to take an equally satisfying but less-dangerous job at the newly found Muggle Magic Pharmaceutical Corporation when Athena started school. Muggle Magic turned wizarding cures into pills and prescriptions for Muggles to take for ailments. It made me feel good to know that I was helping the world. Plus, I had an extremely flexible schedule which left me with plenty of time with Athena.

We had a nightly ritual: I'd help her with any homework she accumulated, we'd watch some telly, talk, have dinner, she'd take her nightly bath, brush her teeth, then get ready for bed, then I'd read to her (she was quite fond of Roald Dahl), kiss her goodnight, tuck her in, turn out the lights, and she'd be asleep by nine. I'd take the next three hours or so for myself, catch up on my reading, maybe do some puzzles, or veg out and watch the telly. Tonight, I chose the latter. I was in my oh-so-sexy pyjamas which consisted of sweats and a tank top and was munching on some ice cream and watching Wizarding Music Television, two of my guilty pleasures.

I was reclined on the loveseat, watching the television and humming when I actually knew some of the songs. I was watching _The Newest_, which showed the Wizarding World musicians' latest contributions to music videos. After the Weird Sisters' latest music video (which was a cover of the Beatles' "Magical Mystery Tour"), the show cut to the veejay. "Now, this next band has been quickly gaining a fan following. Here with us today is Draco Malfoy, the lead singer of Pendraconis!" the effervescent, bottle-blonde bimbo gushed.

I nearly choked on my Cherry Garcia at the introduction. I pretended I didn't hear it, that this was not **my** Draco Malfoy, but -- the man walked onstage -- some other tall, platinum-blonde, silver-eyed, pointy-faced, high-cheekboned man who looked...identical to my Draco Malfoy. It could happen, right? I mean...Draco could have an identical twin...with the same name, right? Wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

"It's good to meet you, Melody," he purred her name and placed a chaste kiss on her proffered hand. The stick figure (whose orangey skin tone was not seen in nature and was only achieved by overdoing the self-tanner and could make an Oompa Loompa envious) blushed.

Melody smiled brightly. "I understand you usually teach Potions at Hogwarts, what made you try your hand at music?" she asked. Draco taught Potions at Hogwarts? Harry had **never** told me that. Then again, we'd sort of lost touch throughout the years. He was busy with his life, and I was busy with mine.

"Well, I didn't have anything to do over the holidays so I figured it might be fun to dabble in music. I never really expected it to go so far," he said. "So I took the past year off and concentrated on music for a while."

"Your debut album, _Year of the Pendragon_, has gone platinum. How do you feel about that?" Melody questioned.

Draco gave her the kind of smile that had melted my heart to putty when we were together and she fanned herself. I felt a quick stab of jealousy. "I feel really good about that, actually," he said. "It makes me proud."

"It should. Pendraconis is one of the most popular bands in the world right now and even the Weird Sisters and Celestina Warbeck think your band's career could very well outlast theirs," Melody stated.

"That means a lot," Draco said, giving a grin that sent the surrounding crowd into sighs and giggles and the twentysomething veejay in front of him looked like she was having a hot flash. I rolled my eyes. The prat. He was doing...the exact same thing he had done to me nearly a decade beforehand. I glared at the telly.

"Well, here's Pendraconis performing their number one hit, 'They All Fall Down,'" the woman said, joining the audience. A black-haired boy that I recognised as Blaise Zabini slid onstage and picked up a guitar, a dark-haired girl moved onstage and picked up a bass, and another boy that I didn't know took up the drums and Draco began to sing.

"I can be as humble as the next guy,  
Or I can blink and make you crumble from the inside,  
I could be every nasty thing you ever dreamt a man could be."

"'Cause they all fall down," Draco sang

"Down," his band echoed.

'Cause they all fall down."

"Down."

"I can make you see the beauty of a new sun  
Or I can be the source of your desperation,  
I could be every nasty thing you ever dreamt a man could be."

"'Cause they all fall down," Draco sang

"Down."

'Cause they all fall down."

"Down," his band echoed.

"Jaded, dated, I'm the type you hated,  
Haunted, taunted, I'm what you've always wanted,  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted,  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted," Draco sang with his band.

"You can turn away like you don't even see me,  
Yeah, you can smile and act like you got something I need  
But every night you go home alone  
And dream about being underneath me."

"All fall down," Draco sang.

"Down."

"'Cause they all fall down."

"Down," his band echoed.

"Jaded, dated, I'm the type you hated,  
Haunted, taunted, I'm what you've always wanted,  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted,  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted."

"Can't you see through this disguise?" Draco sang.

"Can't you see what's inside?" the band sang.

"Find the little boy inside.  
I'm afraid of fallin'," Draco sang.  
"Fallin'," the band sang.

"Love is pain and now she's callin'  
And she's..." he sang.

"Jaded, dated, I'm the type you hated,  
Haunted, taunted, I'm what you've always wanted,  
But I'm what you've always wanted.  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted,  
Yeah, yeah, I'm what you've always wanted," the entire band sang.

Draco and his band finished to uproarious applause and I wrinkled my nose with distaste. Melody was fanning herself as she walked up to Draco. "That was amazing!" she gushed.

"That was for my dirty little secret," he replied, and I dropped my ice cream, remembering a night so long ago.

* * *

I giggled, sated and satisfied from another night with Draco, my head was pillowed on his chest and I was perfectly content to just to listen as his breathing and heartbeat slowly came back to normal. We were both flushed from our exertions and I kissed his chest, my nails lightly running over the flushed expanse of chest. I looked up at him, our eyes meeting. "I really wish we could stay together tonight," I murmured under my breath.

"What was that?" he asked, pushing my hair out of my sweaty face and caressing my cheek.

I blushed, threading my fingers through his. "I wish we could stay together tonight," she said.

Draco gave a sad smile. "I wish we could, too...but it would not be a good idea," he replied, brushing the pad of his thumb over my lips. "It'll just be our dirty little secret, hmmm?"

I gave a sad smile in return. "Ron and Harry would try their damnedest to murder you, and Crabbe and Goyle would try to kill me," I replied.

"No. Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't. When I say jump, they jump. If I told them to leave you alone, they would. It's not them I'm worried about," he answered, getting a faraway look in his eyes. "Can you move yet?"

I giggled again. "I think so," I murmured, slowly moving to a sitting position. I stretched out and could tell that Draco enjoyed the show so I stretched again, slowly, dramatically, and molten silver eyes watched each movement with interest.

He chuckled huskily. "Devious, Granger," he whispered, his Quidditch-roughened hands sliding up my back, pushing his thumbs into the area on either side of my spine, drawing a slow moan from me. He slowly slid his hands up and rubbed my shoulders before sliding his hands down to cup my breasts. His lips kissed the area where my neck met my shoulders before peppering kisses up my neck and along my jawline.

"I think we have maybe an hour more," I said breathlessly as he watched the large grandfather clock across from the brass bed where we were.

"Just an hour?" he murmured against my skin. Our lips met and he gave me a kiss, his tongue sliding past my lips causing my lower regions to turn into molten lava. Draco smiled against my lips and slid his hands down my body...

* * *

I was pulled out of the reminiscence of the past by my sleepy-eyed eight-year-old entering the room in her SpongeBob pyjamas. "Mummy, I can't sleep," she whined. "I keep trying but it doesn't work!" I giggled and patted my lap. Well, okay, it was May and school would be over in a few days, so I decided to let her stay up with me. She sat in my lap, leaning against my chest and I smoothed her brown curls out of her face. One of the many ways Draco's and my genetics had played together: she had my curls but they were smooth and not bushy like mine were. Athena smiled and I rested my chin on her head. "What're you watching?"

"WMT," I replied. "Music videos." She nodded and cocked her head, examining the screen with curiosity.

"Who's that?" she asked, nodding toward the platinum-blonde who was again talking to Melody.

"Draco Malfoy," I spat.

"He's cute," she surmised.

I chuckled. "I guess you could say that," I replied. I gave her a mischievous grin. "You're too young to think boys are cute."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"Not."

"Are." And I attacked; I pushed her onto the sofa and tickled her until she squealed with glee all the while chanting, "Are. Are. Are."

"Okay! Okay! I am too young!" she squealed. I stopped tickling her and rubbed my nose against hers.

"Glad you see things my way" -- she stuck her tongue out at me -- "I'll give you" -- I looked at the clock -- "A half-hour more, okay? And then you are going to bed, whether you like it or not."

"Mummy..." she whined.

"Don't 'Mummy' me, Athena Elise," I stated. "You need every minute of sleep you can get. **And** you have school tomorrow."

She frowned. "I don't like school," she said. "The other kids think I'm weird."

Athena was a lot like her father; she had that enviable ability to remember everything after just seeing or hearing it once, and because of this, she was always the teacher's pet, and the rest of the students disliked her for her perfect grades (much like the other kids disliked me when I had attended Muggle school before I had gotten into Hogwarts). I had to earn my grades by constant studying which was just another reason why Draco and I hadn't gotten along before sixth year. Even I had to admit, if Draco had **actually** studied, he would have beaten me in grades; as it was, we had ended up with the same O.W.L. grades (he'd gotten an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts as opposed to my E, but I had gotten an O in Care of Magical Creatures while he had only gotten an E).

It also didn't help her case that she was already showing strong signs of magic at her young age. Of course, the Underaged Restriction on Magic was still in force, but even then, it didn't really have any say on anyone who hadn't been properly trained in magic like Athena. She had an amazing control over her powers (which really made me worry sometimes, especially after what Harry had told me of the young Tom Marvolo Riddle), but she couldn't control the magic all the time. She was the only witch in her school (Muggle-born or otherwise) and while some teachers and students had been fascinated by her magic, others had been utterly terrified. I knew how she felt (I had been much like her when I had been her age as well) and I really wished that someone would make a Wizarding grade school.

"I know what you mean, sweetie," I told her. "Things were like that for me before I went to Hogwarts. But once I got there, things got better."

"Did they call you a know-it-all at Hogwarts, too?"

"Er...yes, but my teachers liked me at Hogwarts. Well, except for Snape and Umbridge, but that was a long time ago. Neither of them is there anymore. But I also made some really good friends..."

"You mean Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron? But you haven't even talked to them in a long time."

"Because we're grown-ups, Athena. Sometimes when you grow up, you lose contact with people you used to know."

"But if you're really good friends, you should talk more," she said sagely.

The little one had it right. If we were really good friends, we should probably talk more. That was the main reason why I had accepted a post at Hogwarts when I received the owl in June. Not only was I going to help Ron, Harry, Luna, and Ginny (the last student survivors of the first battle of the Second Great War, but I had also been offered the position of Professor of Muggle Studies. I had only taken Muggle Studies in my third year, but it made sense that the class should be taught by a Muggle-born like myself as opposed to a pure-blood like Professor Bonaccord had been.

* * *

I decided to break the news to her after we'd gone out to see a movie together. We sat in an ice cream shop munching on banana splits. "Athena, would you like to move?" I asked her.

She looked at me warily. "What do you mean?" I placed the letter I had received in front of her, she read it, and she gave a broad grin. "You mean to Hogwarts?"

"Most of the year, but during the summer holidays, I found this cute little cottage for sale in Hogsmeade."

I placed the advert I had snipped from _The Daily Prophet_ in front of her and her eyes lit up. "There's a garden, a real garden! Can we plant flowers?"

I smiled. "Anything you want."

My usually mild-mannered daughter began to bounce in her seat and listed off the flowers and plants she'd like for us to grow. "Roses, the pretty and good-smelling ones; jasmine, you know, like that perfume you wear sometimes," she listed. "Can I get a dog?"

I stared at her for a moment. "You've already got a cat," I replied.

"But, Mummy..." she purred, giving me the molten-silver puppy-dog eyes. Damn, how'd she do that look so perfectly when she'd never even met Draco?

I fought vainly to not fall for the puppy-dog eyes. I really, really did. And then I let out a groan, and Athena knew she'd won. The little brat. "Fine, okay," I caved. "And you **will** take care of the dog."

"Yes, Mum," Athena said. "I'll teach it all sorts of tricks. Can I have a magical dog? I--I heard that there are these dogs that change colours..." She prattled on about the colour-changing dogs for a while longer, and I reflected on what I'd seen on the telly. Draco Malfoy taught Potions at Hogwarts...and he was a rock star during his free time? A rock star/teacher, what was the world coming to?

* * *

The day after Athena finished her schoolyear, we moved. The cottage wasn't quite what had been advertised in _The Daily Prophet_. It was run-down, chunks of plaster falling from its façade, several shingles were missing, and the garden was weed-choked. Okay, so it needed work. But it had potential.

"This place is a disaster!" Athena proclaimed with a look of disgust on her pretty face. Ever the pessimist. Just like her dad. What was with me lately? I'd gone almost a decade with hardly any comparison of Athena to Draco, and now all I could think about was how much she was like him. She even had that same look of disgust he'd sent me before we'd become involved. I focused on those earlier memories, about how much of a prick he'd been, but it was of no use. My mind would wander back to the better times. "I say you get your money back, Mum."

I shook off the thoughts as Athena spoke up. "No, everything will work out fine," I stated. "We'll just fix it up ourselves."

"'Ourselves'?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "We know nothing about fixing houses."

"We can learn," I replied as we entered the house, leaves littered the floor, and the cottage had the musty scent of a place that hadn't been aired out for a very long time. "It'll be fun, a mother-daughter project." She didn't look convinced, wrinkling her nose at the scent. "This place smells like Great-Aunt Gertrude."

Even I had to admit that Athena was right about that. We made our way over the dirty floor and opened up the windows, letting in the late spring breeze. We swept the leaves and rubbish out and I made them disappear with _Scourgify_. Athena liked my use of magic and watched me eagerly. "Can we do the rest with magic, too?" she asked hopefully.

"No magic for you," I stated sternly. I magically moved our belongings into the house, then Athena and I took a walk through Hogsmeade's downtown in search of paint. It was remarkable how little it had changed since my days at Hogwarts. The one main change that I could see was that Zonko's Joke Shop was now a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Ooh...I always wanted to go to a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" Athena proclaimed. Athena had been to Diagon Alley many times, but there were two parts that I always kept her away from: Knockturn Alley and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. My daughter was bright with a hint of a mischievous streak (from her father, because she certainly didn't get it from me), and I did **not** want her getting any ideas. But even **I** was curious about the store. Athena didn't even have to give me the puppy-dog eyes. I took her inside. "You are so awesome, Mummy!"

The chaos of the store immediately took me back to the first time I'd ever stepped into one of Fred and George's. That had been the day Harry, Ron, and I had spied on Draco in Knockturn Alley. It seemed like a lifetime ago. And it was, I realised as I watched Athena "ooh" and "ahhh" over a display of Pygmy Puffs.

"I see you've found the Pygmy Puffs," Fred said to Athena. "Nine years running and still our biggest sellers. Do you want to hold one?" She pointed to a rainbow-coloured one. "Excellent choice." He picked it up for her and set it in her hands.

Athena giggled as the fluffy little thing made its way around her hands. "Mum, Mum, can I have one?" she begged, looking at me. "**Please**."

Fred's eyes widened. "Hermione Granger, is that you?"

"Hi, Fred," I replied.

"Wrong twin," he said. I gave him a look, and he gave me a smile. "Alright, I'm Fred. How'd you get so good at telling us apart?"

"Your mum," I answered with an arch of a brow.

"You know his mum?" Athena asked.

"He's one of Ron's older brothers," I replied.

"Oh, Weasley, duh!" Athena said. "It's not a very common name."

"And **this** is little Athena?" Fred questioned; my daughter nodded. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby."

"You knew me when I was a baby?"

Fred nodded. "Saw you at the hospital when you were born."

"Do you know who my daddy is?" I coughed, suddenly choking at her comment. Fred's eyes widened. I'd always expected the question, and I'd been surprised that it had taken her this long to ask the question I'd dreaded since I'd found out I was pregnant with her. I'd always side-stepped any possible question relating to her paternity; I had no idea how I could ever tell her about her father, how I'd fallen for the love of my life and the bane of my existence. Love was funny that way.

Athena's question also startled me. She'd asked a stranger about her father. She deserved to know, but I was scared. Fred floundered, grasping for a response. "Athena," I said sharply. "You don't ask questions like that." Her face fell and I felt guilty for snapping. "Athena, I'm sorry, but now's not the time." I sucked in a deep breath. "I'll tell you about him later."

"Promise?" she asked, silver eyes wide with hope.

"I promise."

* * *

When we got home, I made a quick and simple supper, then sent Athena to bathe and brush her teeth while I did the dishes. It was true that I could simplify things with spells but sometimes doing Muggle things helped me to think. I thought long and hard about how to tell my daughter about her father, secretly hoping that she'd forget.

I found her waiting in my bedroom, watching WMT. Draco Malfoy was on-screen, wearing skin-tight dragon-hide trousers; a navy silk shirt mostly unbuttoned revealing acres of taut, pale chest; his white-blonde hair mussed in a "just got out of bed" look that I found particularly fetching; and his facial expression screamed "come and fuck me" as he walked onto the stage of a talk-show set. God, I hated him. I turned off the telly, and Athena gave me a death glare. "That was Draco Malfoy!" she proclaimed.

"Do you want to hear about your daddy or what?" I sighed. She was immediately incensed. This was going to be incredibly difficult. "Honey...your daddy and I met when we went to Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin, and I was a Gryffindor." Athena nodded, she already knew about the House rivalries. "We didn't like each other when we first met; he was mean to me because Grandma and Grandpa weren't wizards."

"That isn't nice," Athena said with a frown.

"You're right, it isn't nice. But when the War came..." I trailed off, and Athena nodded. She understood about "the War" as well. Every wizard child had been taught about the War from a young age, and my daughter had been no exception. "When the War came, your daddy was a different person. We became friends and, well, you know where babies come from." Athena nodded again, bless her. The girl was too smart for her own good, having asked that question a couple of years prior. I didn't beat around the bush; I beat the bush to a pulp and told her. "Your father and I were very young, and I thought he loved me, but he didn't love me that much apparently." I smiled weakly.

"He sounds really mean," Athena scowled.

"He could be," I replied. "But he could also be very nice sometimes; I loved your father. I suppose I still do."

"Why didn't you marry him like Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry?" Athena asked.

"Well...your father didn't want to get married," I answered.

"Like Aunt Luna and Uncle Ron?"

"No. Not like them. He was...well, it's very complicated, sweetheart. Why don't you go to bed, now?"

"One more question," she interrupted. "What does he look like?"

I smiled and walked to the mirror. "C'mere," I said, setting my chin on the top of her head. She stared at our reflections. "Well, he has your eyes and your nose," I replied, touching the reflection as I listed them. "He has that little smile you have when you're up to no good." I smiled as she gave that little smile that I had listed. "Yes, that one. He has really light blond hair, pale skin; he's tall and very cute."

"Like Draco Malfoy?" she asked, looking at my reaction for speculation.

I paled noticeably. "Um, yeah, like Draco Malfoy," I stated. "Let's get you to bed now, sweetie." She seemed satisfied by my response and raced to her bedroom. I took in a deep breath and wondered what the hell I'd gotten myself into.

Athena lay down on her bed and looked up at me. I debated on whether I should just tell her what I thought she already knew, but I decided to keep that secret for another day. I felt nervous, what if Athena just blurted it out? I didn't even **want** to think of what Athena would do when she saw her father for the first time. Our daughter was amazingly outspoken and I kind of wanted to break it to him easily. Wait, what was I thinking? **He** was the one who broke my heart, let Athena just blurt it out. I hoped he died of a heart attack.

I pouted slightly when I realized that he wouldn't just keel over. He was far too young for a heart attack. I tucked Athena into bed, and her vicious ball of perpetually-moving fluff that dared call itself a kitten, Kali (appropriately named after Kali-Ma, the Sanskrit goddess of destruction), curled up on her mistress's pillow. Athena giggled as Kali's whiskers tickled her cheek. I placed a kiss on her forehead and she snuggled into the covers. I headed toward my bedroom, chewing on my bottom lip thoughtfully.

I actually tried to sleep, but ended up staring at the cracked paint that decorated my ceiling. I muttered _Reparo_ and watched as the cracks mended themselves. I probably shouldn't have done that. Once I didn't have the cracks to stare at, my mind began to wander back to the last night I'd actually seen Draco in person.

* * *

We'd barely just survived, and I had finally come to the realisation that I should tell Draco about our daughter. After all that we'd been through, the night before had awakened feelings inside me that I wasn't sure how to handle. I sat down beside Draco on the rubble. The both of us were bruised and battered, bloody and sweaty from arduous battle. "We survived," I said simply.

"So, we did," Draco said coldly. I thought he was in shock again.

I swallowed my pride. "There's something I need to tell you--" I started.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" he asked, looking at me, hatred boiling in his silver eyes.

I stared at him, feeling the sting of tears. He'd **never** talked to me like that since before our strange affair had started, and I'm ashamed to say, it really hurt. I swallowed hard. "I--I thought..." I started, my voice so soft I could barely even hear.

"You thought what, Granger? That we'd get married and live happily ever after in one of those blasted Muggle cottages with a golden retriever and a white picket fence with more children than the Weasleys?" I actually had...sort of, I realized. Except for the "more children than the Weasleys" part, another child -- a boy -- would be fine. I stared at him, my silence answered his question.

"Oh, you did? That's sweet," Draco stated. A cold, cruel smirk crossed his lips...the same lips that had done wonderful things to me the night before. "I bet you even fell for the virgin shit? You actually think, for one moment, that you were my first?"

Each word was worse than a blow; Draco had always had a way with words that could leave you completely torn apart and exposed. I felt my heart wrench in my chest. "You fucking bastard," I hissed.

"Yeah, Granger, I **am** a fucking bastard, too bad you forgot that," he growled.

I lashed out. I hit him, not the slap that I'd given him in our third year, but a full-on punch. Aside from the probably-broken fingers, it had felt good. But not as good as the look of shock and surprise on his face as his nose dribbled blood.

I'd been horrified at my reaction, and I had Apparated home to my parents where I'd picked up Athena. I'd spent the next eight years trying not to think of her father.

* * *

I stared at the ceiling, living the memories over and over again. How could I face Draco after what he'd put me through? How could I face myself because after what he'd put me through...I still loved him. 


End file.
